In the 40's, the wild pigeons were here in great numbers; in the fall season they flew in flocks by the thousands. They had a roosting place near the mouth of Piney River, where they all gathered at night. They crowded in such great numbers that their weight broke off many branches of the trees, and many people visited the roost at night and killed all the pigeons they needed with a brush or a stick. (If any one doubts this fact, I would refer him to my old friend, Hon. C. Fugate). The pigeons have long since ceased to make their annual visits to Rhea County and the last survivor of the species died recently in the Cincinnati Zoo. Father bought the Colonel Preston farm on White's Creek and moved to it January 1, 1847. Eagle Furnace, located one mile north of us, in Roane County, was then on a big boom. The furnace was owned and operated by Robert Cravens & Co. They made cast iron, mostly pig iron; and shipped it via Tennessee River to Chattanooga in large barges. They had not yet learned the art of coking and had to use charcoal in their business, which required much timber and labor. The "stack" in which the ore was melted was a huge structure about fifty feet tall and about thirty feet in diameter at the base, built of limestone, lined inside with fire-proof brick and sandstone. The plant at first was run by water power; later the steam power was put in to use. The timber being exhausted and the iron ore very inconvenient, the work shut down in the year 1856. Much of the old "stack" stands intact today as a monument (Note: It was removed when they were clearing the land to back up the water behind Watts Bar Dam-EC) to by-gone days, but nearly all the men who helped to operate the Eagle Furnace works have passed beyond our mortal touch and vision. In the 50's, in the old Second Civil District of Rhea County, much land with heavy timber was cleared and put in cultivation, and every spring season "log rolling" was in order, and when invited, the neighbors would lay down their work at home and freely go to help a friend all day to pile his logs without any thought of reward, save a bon-ton dinner, and their friend's lasting gratitude. It was amusing to see the young bloods, and older ones, too, meet and vie with each other over their physical prowess at the end of a spike. Back before the Civil War it was an invariable custom among farmers to husk their corn before cribbing it, and often had night huskings, and it was expected that the proprietor would have a small quantity of "snake medicine" within reach, as snakes were numerous. The darkies like to sing their corn husking songs after nightfall, and old "Unk Ralph" always led the choir, and when he turned up for the occasion with a gill (more or less) of the exhilarating "mountain dew." The music would begin to roll and the corn husks would fly, while the ears of corn dropped rapidly into the granary and the cheering strains of music floated out upon the soft night air in the mellow moonlight to the delight of the entire neighborhood. My string is getting too long and must ring off. Wishing the "News" a grand success and long life, I am yours for luck. W.R. Clack (written in 1915-EC)